


When the Lights are Dimmed

by Cdelphiki



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Concussions, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: After Bruce woke up with a bad concussion, the result of a terrible night out on patrol, he found Jason sitting next to him. His 12-year-old son was about to learn about how emotional Bruce could be while concussed.





	When the Lights are Dimmed

Bruce woke to the sound of a page turning. The harsh scrape of paper against cloth as whoever the culprit was didn’t lift the book high enough to avoid his own shirt grating against the headache currently occupying most of Bruce’s attention.

His pillow was the next thing he noticed. Never had he felt a pillow so hard. Was it made of concrete? He was fairly certain it was. The bed under his body was softer than the pillow. It was not helping the headache at all.

Why’d his head even hurt? He’d never had a headache like this before. It felt like someone had hit him with a baseball bat.

And… oh.

Last night.

That was what had happened.

Scraping from his left started again, so he dared to crack and eye open and see what was creating the noise. Was Dick home? Alfred would never be so noisy while reading.

The light was excruciating. Even though he could tell the lamps were dimmed to the lowest setting. And his vision took a good several seconds to clear enough for him to see, but eventually he made out the figure of Jason. His precious Jason. Engrossed in a book, sitting right next to him in bed.

That was good. Odd, for some reason. But good. He loved Jason. It was nice he was hanging out in Bruce’s room.

Was that what was so odd? Jason had been with him for months now. Six? No, eight. Eight months. And he’d never been in Bruce’s room. Bruce had no idea how to fully gain his trust. Or if he’d ever be able to. Jason was such a skittish kid. That was okay. Bruce would go at Jason’s pace. Jason deserved caretakers who loved and respected him and his boundaries.

He just wished Jason could trust that Bruce would never hurt him. He’d loved him pretty much from the moment he first saw him. He could never hurt his own son.

“Hey old man,” Jason said, his voice a gentle murmur. It still caused a spike of pain, almost as bad as the lights had, but the pain was worth the warmth in his chest. “I heard you pulled a muscle trying to stand up.”

Why would….? Oh. Because he was ‘old.’ He was only 30, for God’s sake. Why did his kids think he was old?

“Something like that,” he mumbled, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Jason was so cute. A cracked skull was _just like _pulling a muscle. Exactly the same. Just came along with Superman panickly arriving on scene and Bruce blacking out before Clark could say “I’ve got you.”

Thank God for Clark. Not that he’d ever tell the man that. It’s a little insulting he’s been listening in more since Dick left. Bruce really doesn’t need a babysitter. Or a partner. He’s fine out there on his own.

Except when he’s not. But it wasn’t his fault some goon snuck up behind him and hit him with a bat. Really, he was occupied with the four in front of him.

But Bruce couldn’t deny it was good Clark was there. Because had he not been, the bat that cracked his skull likely would have killed him. He couldn’t get killed. Jason needed him.

“Do you know what year it is?” Jason asked, and Bruce smiled fully.

“We already know I have a concussion. No need to do a check.”

“Pfft,” Jason said, and Bruce could hear how he’d blown a puff of air into his bangs. That was such a cute habit of his. Bruce kind of hoped he never cut his hair shorter so he’d never stop. “Fine. Just wanted to make sure you knew where you were n’stuff.”

Bruce opened his eyes again and looked over at Jason. He’d set his book down, and was now hugging onto his knees, his head resting in his arms as he stared at Bruce. “Hi, Jason,” he said, hoping to reassure his son that he did, in fact, know where he was and what was happening.

“Hey,” Jason exhaled, and Bruce could see the tension bleed right out of his shoulders and he slumped down a little more.

“You’re in here by yourself?” he asked, remembering why this was all weird. Jason never had a problem being alone with Bruce, but never this close. Never this intimately. And _never _in his bedroom.

“Yeah, what of it? Want me to leave?”

Bruce had shut his eyes again, so he could only hear the way Jason closed back up again. Like he thought Bruce didn’t want him around.

How could Bruce not want Jason around? Jason was great. Didn’t he know that?

“No,” he nearly hummed, shifting his head and immediately regretting it. The concrete beneath his head did not give way, and the entirety of his skull felt like it was on fire for a brief second. One the pain subsided, he added, “You just never come in here. I thought you didn’t trust me.”

Jason was quiet for a bit after that. So long, in fact, Bruce would have assumed he left. But he could hear Jason’s breathing, still, and knew he was still sitting right next to him. Hugging his knees and everything. He almost turned to look at Jason again, but he finally spoke up.

“Well I do.”

And there was the warmth again. So much of it. He wanted to cry from the intensity of it, actually. But that would likely make his head worse. Crying always make his head hurt, just naturally. He didn’t want to feel what it was like to have a migraine and crying headache at the same time.

“I love you, Jay,” he mumbled, instead, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered, the slight rasp to his voice grating on Bruce’s ears. If he thought he could move much, he would have dragged Jason to his side for that rasp. But the _thought _of moving even his arm made his head hurt more.

“Good,” he said, relaxing a little. Because at least Jason knew. “So much.”

“You must be feeling pretty bad,” Jason said, shifting around enough that the bed springs squeaked.

Once Bruce’s world stopped spinning, he grunted. Because he felt like shit, and there was no use in lying to Jay. He’d see right through him.

“You really need backup out there, B,” Jason said, and this was definitely not a conversation he was up for having. He and Jason had argued so many times now over whether Jason could go out. Bruce didn’t have the energy for that. He almost never had the energy for it.

“Can we talk about that later? My head hurts a little.”

Jason laughed, mostly under his breath, before he said, “No shit. Does me talking make it worse?”

“No,” he lied. It made it a lot worse. But Jason not talking made his heart hurt.

“You’re lying.”

“Mm,” Bruce hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. But he did add, “I like hearing your voice.”

“You’re still lying,” Jason said, but now Bruce could hear the smile. If he opened his eyes, he’d probably see bright red cheeks, too.

“I do. It reminds me that you’re here. I’m so _happy _you’re here,” he said, feeling himself get choked up again. He took a deep breath, to center himself, then finished, “Sometimes I wonder where you’d be if you weren’t here and I can’t bear it. I love you so much. I can’t imagine life without you.”

“Man, you really are messed up in the head,” Jason said, but again, Bruce could hear the smile.

He wished he had the energy to sit up and hug Jason. That was something Jason could always use more of. Bruce was pretty sure his dad had never hugged him. Not much, at least. Kids needed hugs.

And, yeah. He could see the ‘messed up in the head.’ Concussions had always made him a little on the emotional side. Usually it’s Dick or Alfred dealing with them. This would be Jason’s first. “It’s still true.”

Jason was quiet after that. For so long, in fact, Bruce started to nod off. Not that it would take much to do so. He estimated he only had a few more minutes of consciousness, anyway.

But he startled, a little, when Jason started moving again, and stilled when his left arm was lifted into the air. Jason slipped under the arm and rested back against Bruce’s side, effectively using his side as a pillow, then settled Bruce’s arm back down around him.

Bruce tightened his arm around Jason’s chest a little, hopefully conveying everything his words could not.

“Does this hurt?” Jason asked, tugging a blanket over himself it felt like. It covered Bruce’s arm, too, which was nice. His hand had been getting cold.

“No.” It was the opposite of hurt. The moving jarred his head a little, but he’d live. Having Jason in his arm was going to help him sleep so deeply, he just knew it.

He’d always gotten the best sleep on the nights Dick came to him for comfort after nightmares. Something about having a child—his child—in his arms just made everything else in the world melt away. No fear or anxieties or worries to keep him up. Just him and his precious son.

Now he had two sons. Maybe sometime soon he’d have both of them at the same time. That… that would make him very happy.

“Go to sleep, old man,” Jason murmured, as he opened his book again. He rested his arms over Bruce’s, and Bruce could hear the pages scrape against the blanket draped over them. “Doctor Alfred says you need to rest for a few days. Can’t have you getting stupider from this.”

“Did he say that?” Bruce asked, but his voice was far too amused. Totally missed the faux hurt he had been going for.

“He did. In those exact words.”

“Hmm. You’re a brat, you know?”

“I know,” Jason said, and all Bruce wanted to do was give him a kiss on the forehead. But sitting up would ruin this position they held. He’d much rather get to hold Jason for a while. Even if the boy would probably leave long before Bruce woke again, at least he’d have these few minutes.

He settled for squeezing him a little tighter again, then relaxed to the cadence of Jason’s page turning. The blanket didn’t scrape nearly as bad as Jason’s shirt had. Plus, the warm weight of his son pressing against his side was very grounding. A good something to focus on, to help tune out the blaring that was his head.

And just as he was drifting off to sleep, the soundless void that was unconsciousness lulling him toward it, he just heard Jason say, “I love you, too.”

Bruce was a little happy he’d got hit in the head.

**Author's Note:**

> And when Bruce woke up, he didn't remember his morning at all. :) 
> 
> I thought of this as being part of the In For a Pound series, but we aren't quite there yet timeline wise so I'm not sticking it in that series yet. I also wrote it out vaguely enough so it could be read on it's own, like it's not part of the AU. (So, I didn't mention Damian. I might not add it to that series at all because of that, but we'll see.) I have a couple more baby Jay stories I want to write that didn't quite fit into _Precedent._ :D I'm really loving writing him at the moment.


End file.
